


In the Lift

by NatatBlue



Series: Space and Time [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatatBlue/pseuds/NatatBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock is still caught in the mysteries of the mating fever. Will he find a mate or will this Plak Tow end as disastrously as the last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Lift

**Author's Note:**

> NBC Universal, Paramount, or some other giant corporation owns the rights to Star Trek and all its characters. I am only playing in their sandbox. No commercial use or profit will be made from this little story.
> 
>  
> 
> Live long and prosper, Leonard Nimoy.

**In the Lift**

Spock pulled his blue tunic over his shoulders and smoothed his hair down as he passed the small mirror in his quarters. A mirror was such an odd device. He used one to examine a wound on a part of his body he could not see, but humans had this strange habit of studying themselves in the mirror and being displeased with the results. It was not logical to repeat behaviors that led to unsatisfactory results, but humans were irrational creatures. 

There was no time to ponder the behavior of humans; he was due on the bridge in 3.4 minutes, and travel by turbolift would take 2.8 minutes. Being late would draw attention to the unease that was threatening his equanimity. Irrational as it might be, he could not escape the turbulence that was rising with each passing day. He would not be able to conceal it forever. His captain knew him too well, and Doctor McCoy’s sharp eyes had looked even sharper the last few days.

The Vulcan mating cycle was shrouded in mystery even on his home world—a private matter and a remembrance of the time before Surak and the serenity of logic. The fight with his captain had interrupted the blood fever, but it had not fully reset his biological clock. Already he could see the shimmering green spots in his vision and feel the pain clawing up his spine. He could suppress it a week, maybe two and then…

It was all irrational. He could not even manage the calculations of routine probability. He only knew he would have to find a way off the Enterprise. He would have to disappear. He could not taint his captain.

With a tug on his tunic, he strode out of his quarters. He would be relieving Mr. Sulu as they were on a quiet mission mapping the debris in the Gamma 6 Asteroid Belt. Captain Kirk had little patience for such missions; he would be below laughing it up with the crew or flirting with the civilian scientists taken onboard at Starbase 12.  

“Mr. Spock,” Captain Kirk said from the command chair.

Spock had to force his feet forward. Captain Kirk should not be here. Spock’s logic had predicted he would be in the recreational area.

“Captain,” Spock said with a stiff nod. “Has something unexpected occurred?”

“Only that Layla Tarson isn’t enchanted by his gold shirt,” Dr. McCoy said from the far side of the bridge where he was peering at the long list of mineral readouts from the space debris. “She doesn’t exactly swing your way.”

“Bones,” Kirk growled. “This is not the time.”

“The poor boy had his pride wounded,” McCoy said with a wide grin.

“Don’t you have bacteria colonies to count, or something? Mr. Sulu continuing mapping this grid,” Kirk said, turning away from McCoy andstudying the PADD in front of him. “Have you commenced random sample collection?”

“Sir,” Sulu said, “as detailed in the report, we’ve been sampling using the standard algorithm.”

“Double it,” Kirk barked.

“Are we searching for something in particular?” Spock asked, sliding to his place at the science console.

“Can no one obey orders today?”

Sulu flinched and bent to adjust the controls. A PADD slipped from a crewman’s hand and landed on the flameproof tile of the bridge with a sharp clatter.  

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock said, his eyes not shifting from his commanding officer. Kirk was many things, often irrational in Spock’s eyes, but he was unfailingly good with his crew. He understood humans in ways that Spock never would.

“Jim,” Dr. McCoy drawled, his archaic southern accent more pronounced.

“Not now.”

McCoy walked to the captain’s chair. “Ah, yes, I think now, and you too Mr. Spock.”

“I am in no need of your services.”

“Increased blood pressure, increased body temperature, increased heart rate, do I need to say more?”

“No, Doctor,” Spock rose from his chair. 

“Bones, we have a mission to run. You can’t have us running off to sickbay for every little hair out of place,” Kirk protested.

McCoy leaned forward, bracing his hands on the back of the captain’s chair. He dropped his voice to a level that most of the human crew would not hear. “Need I remind you that as your doctor I can order you off the bridge.”

Kirk made a show of signing one last PADD before standing up. “Sulu, you have the bridge while I satisfy the good doctor. Come, Spock.” Kirk stayed silent until the doors closed behind them. “This better be good, Bones,” he snarled, brushing back the doctor as he punched the keypad for the turbolift.

“It’s good, my dear boy,” McCoy said, entering the code for his quarters, not sickbay. “This Southern gentleman has seen one blood fever dance. One too many, I might add. I don’t have a hankering for a second.”

“What?” Kirk shouted, hitting the emergency stop.

“Increased temperature, increased heart rate, increased blood pressure,” Spock recited. He paused and folded his hands in front of him. “We are entering the Plak Tow.”

“And how long before you told me, you pointy eared elf?” Dr. McCoy exploded.

“I was unaware of the captain’s condition until you announced it,” Spock said. “It does change my calculations.”

“What calculations?” Kirk’s hazel eyes sparked with anger; each word hurled from his mouth. “What were you planning to do?”

“What he always does,” McCoy said with obvious exasperation when Spock declined to answer. “Martyr himself. He would have disappeared on some inhospitable planet, and we would have been searching all over the galaxy for our green-blooded friend. I don’t like playing hide and seek, Mr. Spock. I also don’t like that this damn thing seems to be catching. Do you have any highfalutin scientific explanation for this because all I can find is some ancient myths about brother warriors? I don’t like explaining medical phenomenon with legends.” 

“We do not discuss the Plak Tow with off worlders.”

“Look here, you damn green-blooded computer.” McCoy stabbed his finger into the wall besides Spock’s head. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your customs, not when I have the first officer and the captain incapacitated, not when I might be watching my friends die.”

“Bones,” Kirk reached for McCoy’s arm. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“You had a front row seat the last time. Don’t tell me it can’t get that bad.”

“Spock.” Kirk turned to face his first officer, hope and desperation fleeing across his expressive face. “There must be an answer.”

“Captain,” Spock said, steadying his words as the heat of his mate scrambled his brain. He needed to touch. Their bodies were too close. He fought for a thread of his control. He could not do this to his his captain. “I know only of legends.”

“What is so bad about the legends?” Kirk asked, hope still shining in his eyes. 

“We must mate,” Spock said, his tongue feeling like wood as he pronounced the death of both of them.

“I can do that.”

“You prefer women.”

“Oh, Spock,” Kirk said with a grin. “You are of little imagination and a literalist. That will be no hardship.”

“Mate, Captain, not have a romp in the sheets as Dr. McCoy would describe it. A mating is for life and monogamous. I am also the Vulcan and the telepath; our relationship would not be of equals.”

Kirk swallowed once. His eyes moved from Spock to McCoy and back to Spock. He reached out with his hand, his fingers brushing Spock’s arm in a tentative stroke. “I would be honored.”

“Jim!”

“Bones, you know there is no other way. What must I do, Spock?”

“You cannot.” Spock tried to back away, but his mind was already reaching for his mate. He was trapped; they were trapped.

“It is the only way,” Kirk said, staring into Spock’s eyes. “I am not afraid. I come willingly.”

“You have no idea what I will ask?” Control was gone; his voice was a shout or a plea. He didn’t know.

“I don’t care. I want it. I burn, Spock. I burn for you.”

“Captain!” Spock put his hands on Kirk’s shoulders to push him away. “I won’t own you.”

“You will and you must.” Kirk threw himself forward, grasping for the points of the meld. 

Fingers skittered across Spock’s face. It was too late. The flames burned. His hand reached for his mate. One forever. Spock’s last rational thought was the sound of the door as McCoy slipped out and set the lock.

 

 


End file.
